Inventive Interludes
by Bedlams Bard
Summary: TR fic. Madeline is a firm believer that anticipation is ninety percent of the fun.


**Title: **Inventive Interludes

**Fandom:** La Femme Nikita

**Characters:** Paul/Madeline

**Prompt:** #46 _these boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do; one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you._

**Word Count: **1,736

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ** Madeline is a firm believer that anticipation is ninety percent of the fun.

-- --

She crossed the room with style and grace. Heads turned to watch every move she made as she strutted past. Her own head was held high, her gaze set straight ahead with just the hint of a smile playing across her lips. Destination in sight, Madeline slowed her pace and raked one long look along the bar. She could see him watching out of the corner of her eye and her smile broadened a fraction more.

"Champagne," she ordered as she slid onto a stall and placed her clutch bag on the bar. The barman nodded and moved away to fetch her glass. She hadn't even sipped it before he'd walked over to stand at her shoulder. Faster than she'd anticipated. He was more eager than she'd given him credit for.

"I couldn't help but notice you walk in alone," he said, his voice filled with such confidence and charm that she couldn't help but laugh with delight as it sent a shiver through her.

"Is that so?" Madeline asked with an arched brow.

"Oh yes," he replied with a grin, "and I have to say that I was impressed."

"How nice."

"I was wondering if you would care to join me for a drink?" he asked and laid a hand between her shoulder blades. It was gratifying to know the backless dress she'd chosen just for him had the desired effect.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Perhaps you'd enjoy the company?"

"I don't play well with others," she replied and looked him straight in the eye. "I like to have things my own way."

He simply laughed and held out his hand to her. "I think I'd enjoy that."

They crossed the room together, her hand resting on his arm, and took seats at a private table. A waiter brought them both champagne and they began to speak of inconsequential things. It wasn't long before Madeline began to grow bored. She leaned forward to lay a provocative hand on his knee.

"Is this really all you invited me over here for?"

-- --

She took the initiative as soon as the elevator doors were closed and they were shielded from view, thrusting him against the wall and into a savage kiss. He gasped as she pushed against him forcefully, making her intention perfectly clear. The pleasantries were over.

As the lift began to slow its ascent she broke off her assault on his senses, leaving him panting. When the doors opened she was gone, strutting down the short corridor leading to the penthouse suite. He followed after her hurriedly, chasing to catch up. All that calm assurance that he'd displayed earlier in the evening swept aside by her advances.

"Let me just get the door here," he said too quickly, his words tripping over each other as he fumbled with the room card-key.

"Take your time," Madeline replied as she swept a hand down his arm, her nails raking over the material. "We've got all night."

He grinned foolishly and pushed open the door to show her in. The room was lavish and expensive, almost palatial in its size. As she explored she ran her fingers over the backs of the chairs and trailed them over the smooth mahogany table top. Her eyes drifted from each of the doors to the windows. Behind her the mellow first notes of a soulful soundtrack started up and Madeline couldn't help but smile as she was struck by a brilliant idea.

"It's beautiful," she said eventually with genuine surprise.

"No expense spared," he answered as he stepped up behind her to kiss her neck. "But still you outshine the entire room."

She turned into his embrace with a smile, wrapping her arms around his waist beneath his jacket. Their kiss was a battle of wills, fierce and forward.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom?" he asked hopefully, hands tangled in her hair.

"Why don't you," she began with a wickedly knowing smile, "have a seat instead?"

Madeline had other plans and she wasn't about to make it easy on him. She pushed back on his shoulders, at first gently and then more forcefully, until the backs of his legs collided with the couch. He dropped down with a gasp and stared up at her in delighted surprise.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" he asked with the lust in his speculative tone unmistakable.

"A little surprise," Madeline answered evasively. She couldn't help but grin at her scheme, knowing it would drive Paul wild.

He flashed an answering grin of his own and sat tensely in his seat as she walked away. He watched her every more avidly, his mouth slightly ajar as his breathing became more rapid. She held his eye, staring straight at him as she started to move to the music. She kept her pace slow, sensuous, as she crossed the floor and reached up to leisurely slide one dress-strap down over her shoulder. Then the other. She gently guided the dress down over her hips and lowered it to the floor, stepping out of it finally until she stood only in her lacy black underwear and high heels.

She turned and crossed back to him, leaning forward to tug lightly at his tie, but slipped away quickly before he could touch. She was in control here. She was the one that made the decisions about how far things went and when, he was just a more than willing participant. The power she held over him in that instant was a rush. She watched him over her shoulder as she inched down one of her lacy black bra straps. He was so enraptured that he didn't even notice when her gaze drifted up and over his head instead.

"Sorry to interrupt," Paul said over the man's shoulder and brought the butt of his pistol down across the terrorist's skull.

-- --

"You've been enjoying yourself I see?" Paul commented with a dry chuckle of amusement. His eyes moved over her body hungrily and she began to sway in time with the music again.

"Well, you did take your time getting here," she replied with a nonchalant shrug of sorts.

"There was some difficulty with security. Nothing serious. But it did set the timetable back," he replied, his eyes locked on her. "I didn't think you'd have trouble keeping him entertained until I could get here."

"The only trouble was coming up with some inventive way to keep him out of the bedroom," Madeline replied with a lethargic sigh. "If you'd been any longer I may well have run out of excuses."

The flash of jealous anger that passed across Paul's face made the whole routine worth it. It was always nice to have an appreciative audience, but it was for Paul's sake that she'd gone to such lengths. He slipped his Beretta back into his holster and spared a glance for the unconscious target slumped on the cushions as he moved around the couch to meet her. The look of disgust on his face as his gaze travelled over the man made her grin.

"You know I hate it when you do valentine ops," he said quietly. For him to make the admission she knew their comm link had to be switched off. They wouldn't have long before Adrian started to suspect something was amiss, but they had a moment's privacy from the prying ears of Section.

Madeline leant into his touch as Paul reached out to stroke her arm, his gaze still travelling over every inch of her skin. "Your brush pass down in the lobby was brilliant," he was saying even though it was obvious his mind was elsewhere. "Section couldn't even make it out on the security feed."

"Practice makes perfect," she replied and wrapped an arm around his waist. They were swaying together now, turning in slow circles in time to the music. "It was easy enough to lift out the security pass from his pocket on the way to the lift. He was practically begging for me to run my hands under his jacket. Anyone could have done this operation. There was no need for me to be in the profile."

"Adrian," Paul replied with a shrug as though that explained everything. Maybe it did. Madeline rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, suddenly tired of the whole charade. They danced slowly across the marble floor of the suite, both oblivious to the unconscious international terrorist passed out on the sofa not ten feet from them. They turned and turned again, Paul's hands making a lazy exploration of her back, until the music finally came to a finish.

"Time to go," Paul said softly against her neck, his lips tickling the skin behind her ear.

"Can you carry him on your own?"

"I'll be fine," Paul answered as he watched her reluctantly pull away. "Get dressed and get out. I'll meet you back in Section for the debrief. We've both got two days downtime after that, I'll give you a ride home."

"Will you now?" Madeline asked with an arched brow.

"Oh, yes," Paul replied with an answering grin of his own, "This is just the interval. There's still the second act to follow."

She laughed and watched him turn away again, all strict professionalism. As she dressed she listened as he reported back in to Adrian and watched as he lifted the deadweight of the unconscious man easily across his shoulders. He spared her one quick glance before he slipped out of the door.

On the ride down in the elevator she straightened her hair in the mirrored doors and spared a moment to dwell on what had been said. She hated going out on valentine operations almost as much as Paul hated to see her go. But she did love the sense of power it gave her over her targets. The knowledge that they'd do anything to have her was intoxicating. Intoxicating but easy. The only man she'd ever had to work to catch was Paul, and as she stepped out of the lift and crossed the lobby floor to the main doors she smiled to herself. Two days downtime, she thought with pleasure, the anticipation already building. She'd make him do the work for a change and then she'd leave him hanging.

Anticipation was ninety percent of the fun after all.

-- fin --


End file.
